


Perfect

by LeChatRouge673



Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types
Genre: Dom/sub, F/M, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-21
Updated: 2016-08-21
Packaged: 2018-08-10 06:40:11
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,502
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7834156
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LeChatRouge673/pseuds/LeChatRouge673
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A birthday gift for a dear friend, who requested a one-shot featuring Cullen and her Trevelyan. Entirely nsfw, with dom!Cullen.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Perfect

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Miss_ragdoll84](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Miss_ragdoll84/gifts).



_Maker take him, but she was impossible._

 

She had been gone for over a month, scouting the arid expanses of sand and stone that stretched to the west, past any point of civilization, almost past the point where messenger birds could reach her, but now she had returned. Her sojourn in the harsh climes of the desert had done nothing to diminish her: if anything, the delicate dusting of freckles and the ever so slight tan that had kissed her skin made her even more radiant amidst the glacial peaks and snow draped valleys of Skyhold.

 

They’d barely had two minutes to themselves since she had returned, and Cullen was aching to touch her, hold her, take her to their room and re-familiarize himself with every muscled curve, every dip in her silk-soft skin, every precious scar that meant she had fought and lived another day. He wanted to taste her lips against his, and breathe in the subtle scent of her hair as she nestled against him. Damn it, he wanted _her_.

 

She knew it too.

 

They had been in the War Room for what felt like an eternity, and Isobel had been doing her absolute best to drive him to distraction. Every time she brushed a strand of winter-sun blonde hair away from her face in a seemingly innocent gesture, her eyes would meet his, and in their icy depths there was the unmistakable glint of challenge. He’d seen it in the sparring ring often enough, but recently it had begun to shine with increasing frequency when she was near him. Today, in the failing autumn sunlight that filtered in through the windows, they practically glittered with unspoken taunts.

 

Cullen suspected that he knew what she wanted. He saw the invitation in every subtle shift of her hips and the blouse that was tied just a little too tightly. Words that neither had found the courage to say, expressing wants and desires that some part of them still feared but that were threatening to burst forth from the deepest parts of their souls lest they be burned by the passion that fueled them. Perhaps it was time. Perhaps she was simply waiting to see if he would take the first step.

 

_There_. That smirk. It almost looked foreign on her features, so often were they either set in a sweet smile or a battle-born rage. He took a deep breath, trying to steady the thoughts that had long since drifted from whatever Josie had been reporting on. He tried to clear away the images of throwing Belle on the war table, scattering maps and tokens with reckless abandon, before ripping the clothes from her body and taking her right there until she cried out with the pleasure they had both been denied for too long. Lifting his head, he met her gaze head on, and Cullen knew that she would recognize the fire that burned in his eyes. _Where are her thoughts,_ he wondered. _And does she feel as consumed as I do?_ The soft rise and fall of Isobel’s chest quickened, causing the curves of her breasts to strain against her blouse even more than they already had, and when her smile widened just a fraction, he knew he had his answer.

 

At last, Josephine set her quill and board aside. Cullen was vaguely aware of the ambassador wishing them a good evening and his own automatic response, but his attention was focused on Isobel. She stood, rooted to her spot on the other side of the war table as he stepped slowly towards her, his tread almost predatory. When he reached her side, he faced the door, resisting the urge to pull her into his arms. He kept his voice low, the words barely a rumble that only his inquisitor could hear.

 

“I want you in our room in half an hour. I’m going to fuck that smirk right off your face.”

 

His heart beat wildly against his chest as he straightened and strode out of the room, silently praying that he had not just made a huge error in judgment. Part of him wished he could have seen the look on Belle’s face; based on the snicker that Leliana poorly concealed with a cough, it must have been priceless. Still, he had taken a gamble. Sex with Belle was always amazing. More than he had ever hoped for, really, but after spending a few nights in the tavern and hearing about the more… enthusiastic… exploits of Bull or Sera, he couldn’t help but wonder what it would be like if he and Isobel explored the darker, more primal areas of their relationship.

 

One way or another, he would find out tonight.

 

* * *

 

 

By the time he heard her gentle footfalls on the stairs, he had stripped himself of his armor and carefully tucked it away. He had painstakingly lit the candles in the room and shut the balcony doors to ward off the late autumn chill. He sat at her desk, his hands folded carefully to conceal the slight tremor that shot through them at uneven intervals as his anticipation built. When Cullen saw Isobel’s frame silhouetted against the shadows cast by the fire, he very nearly lost control of the carefully plan he had constructed in her absence. Her eyes no longer held any challenge; instead, they were wide and almost innocent, asking the questions her lips refused to voice. There was no fear there, though, no trepidation. If anything, it was excitement that tinged the crystalline gaze that looked at him with expectation. Her hips swayed gently as she approached, the motion purposefully accentuated to draw his focus, but he remained impassive. When she stood before him, he held up a single hand, halting her in her path.

 

“That’s close enough. I want to be able to see you.”

 

Cullen bit back a smile at the shiver that ran through Isobel’s body. She stood still, her eyes on him, waiting. He stared at her for a long moment, drinking her in and mulling over the words he wanted to say.

 

“I want to try something new, tonight.” He kept his tone even, belying the urges that were fighting at his core. “I am going to go slowly, and if there is ever a point at which you want me to stop, or that you feel uncomfortable, I want you to tell me. It will not hurt me, and I will not love you any less. Do you find this acceptable?”

 

“More than,” she whispered, her lips curving up in a painfully seductive smile.

 

“Good,” Cullen swallowed hard, “then take off those clothes. I want to look at you.”

 

Belle complied willingly, her breeches hitting the floor almost before he had finished his command. Next, her slender fingers undid each button of her blouse, their path agonizingly slow. His breath caught in his throat when she slipped the simple cotton material down, exposing first her shoulders, then her chest, and finally the elegant curves of her waist. With a few nimble twists, she undid the band that bound her breasts, and even though the fire kept the night’s chill at bay, Cullen could see that her nipples had already firmed into tight peaks. His cock strained against his own trousers as she slipped her smalls over her hips and she removed the pins holding her pale hair back and shook out the long braid, letting silken waves cascade down her back. Only when she stood completely bare did she meet his eyes again.

 

“On your knees. Now.”

 

Again, she obeyed, although he could tell she was struggling not to smile. The game had begun, and he was relieved to see that she was a willing participant. Despite the command he exercised in the field, he still found it difficult to take on any sort of dominant role in the bedroom. Isobel had been dropping hints, and he’d overheard snatches of tavern conversation between her and Dorian that intimated that it was something she was definitely interested in, but still. It had taken weeks of thought and hand-wringing doubt while she was in the desert before he had finally worked up the nerve to try what he was about to do.

 

Standing with more assuredness than he felt, he stepped in front of her, idly stroking her hair before striking her gently across the cheek. He heard a sharp intake of breath, and then a faint hum of pleasure. Releasing the breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding, he spoke, keeping his voice level.

 

“I was _not_ amused by your little antics in the war room this afternoon,” he chided, unlacing the front of his trousers, “we are fighting a war here, and your distractions are not helpful.”

 

“Then I offer my most humble apologies, _commander_.” The title was spoken with a bite of irony, and her eyes drifted towards the hands that even now were freeing his cock from the confines of his own smalls. “I assume you’ve thought of a fitting penance?”

 

He did not answer, instead gently easing her mouth open with his free hand before roughly entering her mouth. He took care not to force himself too deeply, while still rocking his hips just more than either of them was used to. Belle responded hungrily, her tongue lapping around his length as her head moved in rhythm with his own thrusts. Cullen let his head drop back and his eyes squeeze shut, the heat and moisture of her mouth driving him closer and closer to the edge. Maker, he had missed her.

 

When he felt his release drawing near, he withdrew roughly, leaving her gasping for breath and her chest heaving. Without giving her a chance to recover, he pulled her to her feet and grasped her around the waist, sweeping her up and crossing the room in a few purposeful steps. Cullen pushed her forcibly onto the bed before tearing off the rest of his clothes. When he joined her, his lips crashed into hers and his tongue slipped into her mouth without preamble. Belle threw her arms around his shoulders, and he could feel her nails leave trails down his spine while she returned his kiss with an unexpected ferocity.

 

Cullen nipped at her bottom lip, hard enough to earn a sudden yelp but not so hard as to draw blood, then moved his attention to the slender column of her neck, alternating teeth and tongue such that he knew she would have marks to show for it in the morning. To his mild surprise, he found he did not care in the slightest. He pulled away, leaving her sprawled breathless on the sheets, each impatient breath lifting her breasts, inviting him to lose himself in her.

 

_Not yet_.

 

He leaned back, his gaze raking over her appraisingly, unapologetically. Belle moved as though to sit up as well, but he pushed her back against the bed. Reaching behind her, he pulled the item he’d cached away under his pillow earlier in the evening: Belle’s favorite silk scarf, quietly elegant in shimmering taupe and accented with a swirling pattern of gold thread. Cullen locked his gaze with hers, and when she nodded her silent permission he grasped her wrists and secured them above her head before wrapping them securely with the scarf.

 

“Remember… you say the word, and I stop,” he murmured against her ear.

 

She arched her back in response, the peaks of her nipples brushing against his chest as she did so and sending a shiver down his own spine. Taking another deep breath, he centered his thoughts. He was not nearly done with her.

 

Cullen let his hand drift lazily down her body, his fingers pausing to sharply pinch the pebbled flesh of her nipple and eliciting another hum of pleasure before snaking farther down. The battle-born muscles of her stomach and thighs twitched beneath his touch, and an attractive pout formed on Belle’s lips when his touch grazed her entrance only to shift away. Instead, his mouth went to her breasts, lips and tongue teasing against the tender flesh that stood in such stark contrast to the hard-won calluses and scars that gave such fierce and glorious character to her body.

 

Teeth replaced tongue, and he bit down gently, then with more pressure, gauging the reactions of her body with precise attention. He sucked, hard, then released the now-swollen bud before turning his attention to the other side and repeating the pattern. His hands traced a familiar path down her sides, cupping her ass and squeezing it with a gentleness that seemed at odds with the ferocity with which his mouth worked over her breast. One slender, well toned leg was flung over his hips, prompting him to retreat again. This time, however, he bodily lifted Belle and flipped her on her stomach before giving her a sharp slap across her ass.

 

“Did I tell you to move?”

 

A muffled giggle came from beneath a mass of blonde hair, and Cullen rolled his eyes but did not relent, instead smacking the other side. Belle moaned beneath him, lifting her hips and swaying almost imperceptibly. Maker’s breath, she was actually enjoying this.

 

_Good_.

 

Cullen ran a single finger along her slit, smiling when she shuddered at his touch. When he found her clit and circled it lightly, a sharp gasp and an incoherent string of words left his lover’s throat. Slipping first one, then two fingers inside her, he began a steady but infuriatingly slow rhythm. He kept his thumb at the bundle of nerves, first increasing, then decreasing, the pressure until he heard her breath grow shallow and saw her wrists straining against their confinement, aching to finish the job.

 

Without warning, he suddenly grasped the curves of her hips and thrust into her with an intensity that surprised them both. Never had sex held such a sense of urgency while at the same time demanding such restraint on his part. He could feel every muscle of her core pulsing around him, the contractions become more frequent as his hips pounded against hers relentlessly.

 

Then, when he could feel her beginning to tighten around him, Cullen withdrew. Belle groaned, arching her hips back towards him and earning another strike across those perfect curves. He lifted her by the waist and twisted her again so that she was on her back, eyes glittering like winter’s first frost and lips crimson from where she had bit back against her own pleasure. _She is so beautiful_. A rosy flush had risen in her breasts, and despite her attempts to remain serious a smile was threatening to break out across her cheeks. Before he could stop himself, he brushed a gentle hand over her cheek, the simple touch electrifying every nerve in his body. Leaning down, he ghosted a kiss over her cheek.

 

“I love you,” he whispered, each syllable imbued with more emotion than he had ever known, and with more desperation than had ever seized his heart.

 

Her lips finally relaxed into a radiant smile. “I love you too, Cullen.”

 

Keeping her hands pinned behind her, he moved his lips down her body, savoring the taste of her skin and the sweet whimpers that escaped her throat in equal measure. His hand moved back down to the apex of her thighs, finding the perfect spot with the ease that only came with long hours of practice. Keeping his pace slow, he let his gaze remain fixed on Belle even as she writhed beneath him, chasing her peak. Every muscle in her body was taut with desire and tension, and he knew that he could, at any time, push her over the edge. The knowledge was intoxicating, and he drove his fingers insider her to heighten her pleasure even further.

 

When he could feel her inner walls beginning to pulse and contract, he withdrew his hand, granting her a tiny smile when a string of curses struck through the air like a discordant song. He placed a faint kiss on her cheek, then charted a trail down between her breasts, her stomach, her hips… Cullen paused when he reached her entrance, his eyes meeting hers briefly before his lips met her clit. A sharp intake of air above him prompted a broader smile before he focused on her in earnest. His tongue ran a deliriously frustrating path along one side, then the other, before flicking briefly inside of her and then teasing once more at the perfect spot. It was not often that he was able to take his time with her, and he wanted to enjoy it, but even more than that, he wanted _her_ to enjoy it. Still, he couldn’t help but be amused by the low growl of frustration that broke from her throat when he pulled away.

 

“Andraste’s ass, Cullen, please…” Isobel’s musical voice was tinged with want, and her hands once again strained against the knots he had so carefully tied. “I need you.”

 

It was those final words, spoken with such sweet, pure longing that finally broke him. His hands moved to hers where he deftly untied the knot that bound them, freeing her to throw her arms around his shoulders and pull him down into a deep, dizzying kiss. For a long while, they remained wrapped in each other’s arms, utterly lost in their embrace and oblivious to the world beyond the flickering candlelight of the bedroom. Belle’s hands, having been released from their confinement, were now running over every part of his body until one finally came to rest on his cock. Refusing to break their kiss, she stroked his length, gently at first, then with more speed and pressure until she guided him to her entrance and tilted her hips towards him.

 

Cullen pulled away from her lips, briefly, so that he could look into her eyes as he thrust into her once again. There was still intensity in their love-making, but now there was also passion and a slow burn in his core that contrasted sharply with the rough, possessive sex they had indulged in earlier. A soft moan escaped Belle’s lips, her head pressing back against the pillows and her body meeting his with every roll of the hips. One hand went to the supple swell of her breast, his thumb gently stroking the peak he had so recently bit and sucked with such zeal. No matter how many times he had the privilege of touching her, he would never, _ever_ not be in awe of her body.

 

Another whimper, another impassioned plea, and he felt her entire body shiver with pleasure as, finally, she found her release. A quiet sigh, and then a gentle smile. He leaned down long enough to dip back into the grace of her lips before, with a few final thrusts, he too reached his peak and her name tore from his throat in a hymn more perfect and sublime than anything that ever rang from the chantry’s halls.

 

He collapsed beside her, the only sound drumming in his ears the uneven rhythm of their ragged breath as they descended back to reality. When he was certain his legs would support his own weight again, Cullen stood and methodically extinguished every candle and banked the fire in the hearth. He returned to bed and slipped under the covers, smiling when Belle snuggled up beside him and nestled her head against his shoulder. They lay there for a long moment, gazing at the stars that had blossomed in the night sky outside their windows and simply holding on to each other.

 

“I missed you,” he whispered, brushing a kiss on the top of her head.

 

“I missed you, too.” Cullen could hear the smile in her voice even as she nuzzled closer to him. “It won’t always be like this, you know. A few brief nights together before I have to run off to some other Maker-forsaken corner of Thedas. Someday, I’ll be here every night when you come to bed, and I’ll be here every morning when you wake up.”

 

“I know, love.” Too often his heart ached at the inherent uncertainty of their future, but nights like this, when she was safe in his arms and the world beyond their bedroom faded away… he could believe her. He shifted slightly so that he could meet her eyes which even now were beginning to drift off into sleep. “Was this… I mean tonight, was it alright? I didn’t push you too far, did I?”

 

Her laughter vibrated against his body and he relaxed into her embrace. “No, Cullen. Tonight was perfect. Trust me, had you gone too far, you would have known, but… it was just perfect.”

 

“Good,” he smiled before placing one more kiss upon her lips. With a final, contented sigh, he allowed his own eyes to close and his mind to relax into the quiet rest that sleeping in Isobel’s arms allowed.

 

_Perfect_.

 

 

 

 

 


End file.
